


SKAM ADVENT CALENDAR

by salengedusmiler (SilverySparks)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, Ballroom Dancing, Christmas Fluff, Cuddles, Disney cereal, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Friendship, Horoscopes, Horrible pick-up lines, Hot sauce, I don't even know what to tag this, Inspirational Quotes, Isak can actually cook, Julian Dahl with an actual personality, Mahdi without waffles, Multi, also, basically this is a mess, boy squad making origami, equally horrible jokes, gay advent calendars, i guess, last christmas, lots and lots of friendship, more tags to be added probably, people being handcuffed together, scented candles, useless facts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 13,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverySparks/pseuds/salengedusmiler
Summary: Watch your favourite Skam characters open their advent calendars together with their friends. 24 days of more or less Christmassy friendship and couple fluff!





	1. 1st December - Vilde

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is it. Before I start I want to thank a few people first:
> 
> JM, for listening to me complain about this every day for two entire weeks. I love you and I hope this is a worthy first advent calendar for you <3
> 
> Amalie, my wonderful beta, who was fast and thorough at the same time and helped me a lot with the details of Christmas in Norway.
> 
> The Skamily discord chat, because there was always someone there who encouraged me and helped me with a million little things. You know I probably would have given up on day 3 if not for you.
> 
> We're starting off with a very short chapter, I hope all of you enjoy this!

Of course the first thing Chris notices when she comes in is the advent calendar. It’s big and gold and glossy and just generally everything the rest of the flat is not. Vilde specifically tidied her room for it, and arranged all her Christmas decorations around it on the windowsill to make it look less out of place. The success is moderate, but she’ll get used to having it in her room quickly enough. And so will Chris.

“That looks fancy,” Chris says, walking over to the window to admire it from up close. “Those doors look very big for chocolate.”

“That’s because it isn’t chocolate,” Vilde says happily. “It’s beauty products! My father gave it to me as an early Christmas present,” she adds quietly.

Chris smiles at her. “Well it’s a damn nice one, that’s for sure. What was in it this morning?”

“I haven’t opened it yet,” Vilde says. “I wanted to do it when I had more time. Like now.” She gives Chris an excited smile and joins her by the window.

The advent calendar comprises 24 drawers of different shapes and sizes that hint at the various tubes, tins, bottles and containers hidden inside them. Vilde opens the one labelled _1_ almost reverently and gives a delighted squeal as she pulls out a tin of eyeshadow that’s just as gold and glittery as the calendar.

“Look how pretty it is!” she beams and hands it over to Chris, who turns it in her hands.

“It really is,” her friend says, “It’ll suit you really well. But… you know you don’t need them, right?”

Vilde looks up at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you’re such a beautiful girl, inside and out. Even without makeup. You don’t need to make yourself look prettier.”

Vilde sets the eyeshadow down on the windowsill and looks up at her friend, a warm smile lighting up her face. “My dear Chris,” she says fondly. “You’re the sweetest. But I do genuinely enjoy putting on makeup and dressing nicely and all of that. It just makes me feel good, you know?”

Chris lowers her eyes and smiles back. “I’m glad it does that,” she says quietly. “I really am.”


	2. 2nd December - Eskild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to rosecolored_girl who guessed right!

“Baby Jesus!” Eskild calls out before he’s even opened the door. It’s been a while since the now-slightly-less-grumpy boy has last graced them with their presence and he’s excited, okay? Excited enough to envelop Isak in a firm hug that makes him complain “Mmsskllld” into Eskild’s shoulder.

“Isaaaak,” Eskild complains back. “Is a guru not allowed to miss his baby gay?”

“Is a boy not allowed to have personal space?” Isak retorts, grinning.

“Not in this house,” Eskild says cheerfully and drags him to the kitchen. “Would you set the table while I make the eggs?”

“Sure,” Isak mumbles. “Hey, Even’s mum gave us a ton of that strawberry jam she made this summer and I brought a jar- what the fuck is that?”

“What? Oh.” Eskild grins as he turns away from the stove to see what Isak is staring at. “That, my friend, is an advent calendar.”

“A gay one.”

“A gay one,” he agrees happily.

They both look at it, Eskild fondly, Isak somewhat apprehensive. It’s bright pink, its sides are slanted so it looks like it’s leaning to the left, and on the front large rainbow-coloured letters proclaim, _This advent calendar is so gay it can’t even stand up straight._

“God,” Isak mumbles half-heartedly, then his eyes go to Eskild’s t-shirt. “ _I’m so gay I can’t even think straight,_ ” he reads. “I assume that’s from the calendar? They could at least have come up with a new pun.”

“It’s themed, Isak,” Eskild says. “It doesn’t need a new pun. Besides, standing up straight and thinking straight are two different things.”

Isak doesn’t look entirely convinced, but Eskild graciously decides to overlook that. “I haven’t opened it yet,” he says. “Do you want the honour?”

Shrugging, Isak opens the door with the 2 on it and pulls a rainbow coloured something out of it. “What- oh.”

It’s a pair of stockings. Rainbow stockings, with _I AM GAY_ and _I AM PROUD_ written on them in big bright letters. There’s a moment of silence as Isak looks at his own hands holding them with a weird expression on his face. It reminds Eskild of himself, years ago. In a worse place.

“Keep them,” he decides. Isak jumps. “What?” “Keep them,” Eskild repeats. “It’s a gift from a guru to his baby gay. Like a graduation diploma. Except it’s more of a midterm diploma because obviously you’ll always need my advice.”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Isak says, looking rather taken aback. But Eskild doesn’t miss the slight grin on the boy’s face as he pockets the gay stockings.


	3. 3rd December - Yousef

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my darling Rose for sharing her experiences, contributing ideas, checking my characterization and basically just planning this entire thing for me. You’re an angel and without you this would’ve been a disaster.

Yousef stares at the simple chocolate advent calendar standing on his desk. It shows a house covered in snow, with pretty lights on the roof and candles in the windows. There’s a Santa with a sleigh, a reindeer flying through the night sky, and children building a snowman in the street. It looks happy and innocent.

“Why are none of the doors open yet?” Elias asks. “Did you sleep through the last three days?”

Yousef snorts. “Maybe I just wanted to look at it for a little while longer before the open doors disrupt the picture?”

Elias looks from Yousef to the calendar and back again with a mildly disbelieving expression. “Since when do you value standard commercial Christmas pictures more than chocolate?” When his friend doesn’t reply, he raises an eyebrow. “Come on. What is it?”

Yousef gives an embarrassed laugh. “It’s stupid. But it just feels wrong.”

Elias frowns. “Feels wrong how?”

“I don’t know. It’s like… I go through all that shit to distance myself from Islam and now I’m following Christian traditions? Christianity teaches the same things as Islam, just from a different book. I turned from Islam because I disagree with religion as a whole.”

Elias hums quietly. Then he says, “Don’t you think you’re attaching a little too much meaning to a bunch of chocolates that happen to come in a Christmas wrapping? You don’t have to be religious to have an advent calendar. Everyone has them whether they believe or not. Even plenty of Muslims do.”

Yousef sighs. “Maybe,” he says hesitantly. “It’s not just that though. There’s also… I feel like I’ve been… neglecting… the Turkish part of my identity?”

“Just because you left Islam?” Elias asks. “Religion is not what makes you Turkish. Just like the fact that we aren’t Christian doesn’t make us less Norwegian.”

“I know that,” Yousef concedes. “It still feels weird.”

Elias looks at his friend for a moment before a grin spreads over his face. “You won’t be eating the chocolate then?” he asks.

“I did _not_ say that,” Yousef interjects quickly as Elias reaches for the calendar. “Give it back, you twat!”

Once he’s regained possession of the calendar, he runs his fingers over it, carefully passing by the first three doors until he reaches the one labelled _3_. He opens it slowly to avoid tearing the cardboard until a piece of chocolate falls into his hand. A tiny reindeer is smiling brightly up at him, and Yousef makes sure to smile back before he puts it in his mouth.

Meanwhile, Elias empties the first two doors.


	4. 4th December - Jonas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favourite chapter to write so I very much hope you enjoy it :)

“Where’s your advent calendar?” Isak asks. The two of them are lying on Jonas’s bed, and apparently Isak used the momentary lull in the conversation to inspect Jonas’s room as if he didn’t know it as well as his own. And of course he focuses on the most important things.

“Right there,” Jonas says, pointing to a large glass jar filled with tightly folded pieces of paper. “It’s a challenge for every day. Thea made it for me.”

“A challenge? Like what?”

“Like, urgh,” – he stretches to reach the glass without getting up and nearly drops it before depositing it safely on his duvet and fishing for the paper with the 4 on it – “like… oh god.”

“What?” Isak asks, grinning.

“ _Spend twelve hours handcuffed to someone else_ ,” Jonas reads out and groans. “THEA?!”

Jonas’s sister appears in the doorway and smiles sweetly, holding out a pair of silver handcuffs covered in pink fabric.

“Where the fuck did you get these from?” Jonas asks, staring at the pink fluff with mild disgust on his face.

“Amazon,” Thea says, “they’re pretty cheap actually. Now you two, come here.”

“Hold up,” Isak says, the grin fading quickly from his face. “I have absolutely no desire to be handcuffed to this dork for twelve hours. Handcuff yourself to him, it was your idea!”

“No way,” Jonas and Thea protest at the same time. “I’m not spending the entire day in the same room as her,” Jonas says. “If I’m gonna be handcuffed to anyone it’s you.”

“Huh? It’s not my challenge!” Isak complains.

“As my best friend it’s your moral duty to support me in this,” Jonas declares. “Anything else is a violation of our blood brotherhood.”

“Jonas, we were ten,” Isak says exasperatedly, but he gets up with an exaggerated sigh and pads over to where Jonas and Thea are standing. “I get to have my right arm free though,” he demands. Thea nods and Jonas grimaces. “Fine.”

They hold out their arms, and Thea fastens the handcuffs around their wrists. “It is now half past eleven,” she declares with a glance at her watch. “I’m gonna free you at half past eleven tonight. Have fun,” she smiles and leaves the room, taking the keys with her.

Jonas and Isak are left standing in the middle of the room, with their hands suspended awkwardly between them. They look at each other in silence.

“So what now,” Isak asks finally. Jonas shrugs and looks a little helplessly at their joined hands.

“How are we supposed to play FIFA like this?”

“Maybe if we sit really close together?” Isak suggests. “And hold our controllers a little to the side?”

It’s no sooner said than done, but when Isak gesticulates angrily with his controller for the third time, causing Jonas to drop his own, they give it up. They spend a while just sitting on the floor and chatting, until a new problem presents itself.

“Dude, how the fuck are we gonna use the bathroom?” Isak asks.

They stare at each other for a moment, horrified.

Jonas ends up standing right outside the door holding his arm as far into the bathroom as possible, while Isak tries to navigate opening the buttons on this jeans with one hand. It’s incredibly uncomfortable and Jonas smells and hears things he doesn’t want to smell and hear, so overall, it’s a very unpleasant experience.

They end up spending most of the day watching TV and limiting their lunch to crisps after an attempt at eating a proper meal with cutlery nearly ended with a fork in Jonas’s eye. Thea complains that they’re being boring, and that they should go out and do something, so Jonas’s mother – who is clearly on Thea’s side and is enjoying herself far too much – sends them grocery shopping.

After barely stopping an elderly woman from reporting them as escaped convicts to the police and fleeing from a middle-aged man who informs them that he hasn’t yet found a partner who is also into bondage and would they perhaps consider a threesome, they decide to hide the handcuffs as best they can underneath their winter coats and pretend to be an inseparable couple holding hands… which turns awkward when they run into Jonas’s neighbour.

“Oh, are you gay now?” she asks with slight disappointment in her voice. “What happened to that pretty young lady that always came round to your house? Are you cheating on her?”

“Isak isn’t my boyfriend,” Jonas explains quickly, “he’s just terrified of supermarkets and I’m his moral support. He lost his teddy bear, you see. Have a nice day!” And he pulls Isak into the next aisle as quickly as possible.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Isak asks as soon as they’re out of earshot. “ _Lost his teddy bear_? Are you serious?”

Jonas is already cracking up. “I’m sorry,” he giggles. “But I had to tell her something! She can’t think I’m cheating on Eva!”

“Fair enough,” Isak admits, now laughing as well. Once they’ve calmed down, he gives Jonas a fond look. “The things I do for you. Sometimes I wonder why I put myself through this.”

“Because you know that I’d do anything for you,” Jonas says seriously. He holds up their joined hands. “Like be your teddy bear replacement when you’re scared of the supermarket.”

They burst into another fit of giggles. “Shut up,” Isak snorts and gives Jonas a push, nearly catapulting both of them into a shelf with hot sauce. “But, Jonas? You’re a good replacement teddy bear.”

Jonas smiles to himself. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I try to be.”


	5. 5th December - Even

When Even comes home from his lectures Isak is still at school. He dumps the groceries he picked up on his way home in the kitchen, doesn’t manage to unwrap the approximately 705 layers of clothing that are necessary to go outside these days before he starts to sweat in the well-heated apartment, and plops down on the bed. He regrets this as soon as he is settled, because that is the moment he remembers he was in too much of a hurry this morning to open his advent calendar. He gets up again with a quiet groan and walks over to the window, where 24 Christmas patterned bags are dangling from the curtain rail. His mother insisted on giving him the same hand-filled advent calendar as every year, and Even really isn’t complaining. She always knows what to cheer him up with.

Now appropriately excited, Even reaches up and blindly fumbles for the content of today’s bag. He half expects it to be another set of clothespins or some other household necessity, but instead his fingers close around two pieces of firm paper. He lowers his hand to look at them and discovers two theatre tickets, for a place known for its small but artsy productions. Even smiles. He’s loved that theatre ever since his mother took him there for the first time when he was twelve. He’s tempted to give the second ticket right back to her, to go with her like they used to. But then he pauses. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through the contacts, then presses the call button.

“Even?”

“Hey, Sonja,” he says, an easy smile settling on his face. “I found two theatre tickets in my advent calendar today, you know, for the small one I kept dragging you to until you started to really like it.”

“Ah, how lovely,” Sonja says. “Are you planning to drag Isak there too now?”

Even laughs fondly. “Nah, he’s not an artsy one,” he replies. “I was thinking of dragging you again, actually. Only if you want to, of course.”

“Of course,” Sonja echoes drily, and Even can hear the smile in her voice. “I’d love to go actually, I haven’t been to that theatre since we broke up.”

“Well that’s tragic,” Even says. “I can’t keep you from it any longer. It’s settled then? Next Sunday, I’ll be at yours at seven?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Even, I’ll pick you up. That’s what cars are for.”

“Fine,” Even concedes. She does have a point. “Anyway. I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I,” Sonja says. “I’ll see you then, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Even says with a grin. “Are you expecting me to stand you up?”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.”

“Okay okay, I do. And you will. Have a nice afternoon.”

“Even?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Even smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Goodbye, Sonja.”


	6. 6th December - Elias

The first thing Mutta says when stepping into Elias’s room is “What on earth is that?!” Elias can’t blame him, really. After all, he doesn’t normally have an enormous star-embossed piece of cardboard on his wall, especially not one that says-

“ _24 Days of Festive Horoscopes_ ,” Mutta reads, his voice loaded with scepticism. He turns to Elias. “Who are you and what have you done to my buddy?”

Elias shrugs. “Horoscopes are funny,” he defends himself. “Besides, Eskild gave it to me,” he adds quietly.

Mutta’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Eskild, huh?”

“He’s a friend!” Elias says quickly, a faint blush rising in his cheeks. “You don’t just throw away presents from friends.”

“Hm,” Mutta says. “So what’s your festive horoscope for today then?”

“I don’t know yet. I only open them at night to see what they say should have happened,” Elias says. “But we can do it now.” He walks over to the advent calendar and opens the door with the 6 on it, pulling out a piece of thin paper without sparing a glance for the symbol that’s printed on the cardboard. He unfolds the paper and reads, “ _You are torn between the magic of the festive season and panicking about the organization; notably the food._ ”

Mutta snorts. “Sounds like you,” he says. “Food is always a priority.”

“Of course it is,” Elias says. “We’d die without it.” He continues, “ _You have gone a little overboard with your spending this Christmas, haven’t you?_ ”

“Anyone who bought that calendar definitely has gone overboard,” Mutta comments drily.

“Shut up and let me read! _Mercury will interfere with your planning and cause things to run a little late._ ”

“You’re always late for everything. Didn’t need a horoscope to tell me that.”

Elias grins smugly. “It’s not my fault, it’s Mercury’s,” he says. “Go complain to that. _Your edginess could lead to some confrontation with your partner who just wants you to relax and have a nice day._ Who, my imaginary partner?”

“Eskild, obviously,” Mutta says, earning a slap from Elias.

“He’s a _friend,_ ” he emphasizes.

“Right,” Mutta says quietly. “Keep telling yourself that.”


	7. 7th December - Julian Dahl

Julian is lounging on his couch, feet up on the coffee table between mostly empty bottles of champagne, the hood of his Penetrators sweater pulled over his hair. Chris is lounging in the armchair facing him, in the exact same position. They’re the only two people left at the party, and it’s late (or early) enough for them to be mostly sober again. Or, well, Julian is. There’s really no way to tell with Chris.

Sighing, Julian gets to his feet and makes his way over to the bathroom. His eyes fall on the advent calendar his grandmother made for him. His father kept offering to buy him one of those fancy ones, with spirits or aftershaves or whatever they put in calendars these days, but he will always prefer his granny’s beautiful handmade ones.

He looks at his watch and hesitates. It’s definitely morning. He hasn’t slept, but that doesn’t mean he can’t open his advent calendar already. Very carefully, he unwraps the parcel labelled _7_ and discovers a set of beautiful oil pastels, clean and neat and pretty.

“What’s that?” Chris asks from his armchair. Julian turns around and shows him the pastels. “They were in my advent calendar.”

“You get crayons in your advent calendar?”

“They’re not crayons, they’re oil pastels,” Julian explains patiently. “You know I love painting.”

“How could I not,” Chris mumbles, letting his eyes wander over the artworks that cover almost every inch of the wall. “I just thought you painted with brushes, not cray- oil pastels.”

“Sometimes I paint with brushes,” Julian explains, already feeling a smile spread on his face – that always happens when he talks about painting. “Sometimes I paint with pencils. And sometimes…” he runs a finger over the tips of his newly acquired tools, “…with oil pastels. Like that painting, for example.” He points to a picture of a black tree in front of a bright red sunset. It’s one of his personal favourites and he knows the vivid colours tend to draw the attention of visitors. Chris purses his lips and raises his eyebrows. “That’s… pretty cool, bro.”

Julian suppresses a grin. None of his friends know a thing about art, and the vast majority of them fails to comprehend what he gets out of it. But still they listen to him ramble on about it, and Chris has even accompanied him to art exhibitions once or twice. Julian laughs quietly. When Chris looks at him quizzically he tells him, “I know you aren’t really one for emotions, but I’m really glad I have you.”


	8. 8th December - Sonja

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to everyone who said nice things about my depiction of Sonja in Even's chapter, I love you all. (And also to everyone who is passionate about tea.)

The doorbell rings, and Sonja puts her book down and opens the door with a smile on her face. “Hey!” she says warmly and gives Mikael a short hug before stepping aside to let him in. They make friendly small talk on their way to the sitting room, exchanging _how are you_ ’s and _what have you been up to_ ’s. It’s been a while since they last saw each other, which is exactly why Sonja has invited him over today. Maybe they’re not quite close enough to be called friends, but they did use to spend a considerable amount of time together and frankly, Sonja misses him, with his light humour and easy smiles.

“What would you like to drink?” she asks once they’re seated. “Which kind of tea, I mean.” They grin at each other. Even drinks tea sometimes, but he’s actually more of a coffee person. Mikael and Sonja, on the other hand, have always loved their tea.

“What do you have?” Mikael asks, and Sonja opens her tea cupboard.

“Let’s see… Earl Grey, Darjeeling, green chai, apple and fig, fennel, ginger, lemon,” she shifts a few boxes to get a look at the second row, “rooibos, elderflower, peppermint, camomile, and…” she turns around and plucks a single teabag with a bright 8 on the label off a string that’s attached to the wall in the shape of a star, “cherry brownie?” she reads from the label, wrinkling her nose. “Who came up with this?!”

Mikael chortles into a couch pillow. “You know, when I came in I thought, oh, a tea advent calendar, what a great idea!” he says, grinning at Sonja over the top of the pillow. “But it seems I have to reconsider. _Brownie tea_?”

Sonja sniffs the teabag carefully. “It doesn’t even smell nice,” she says and looks at Mikael. “Who sacrifices themselves for the sake of Christmassy product testing?”

“I’ll do it,” Mikael says graciously. “I am kind of curious to see how it tastes.”

“Very gentlemanly of you,” Sonja says and goes to the kitchen to boil water. When she returns, Mikael has already prepared the cups and teabags. They pour the water on top of them and wait for what feels like forever. Finally, Mikael takes a sip and makes a face.

“It tastes even worse than it smells,” he says. “Or well, it tastes exactly like it smells but it’s worse when you have to taste it.” He takes another sip. “I can’t decide whether this is something one could get used to or just plain disgusting.” He hands Sonja the cup.

“Definitely plain disgusting,” she decides the moment she tastes it. “Nope, not gonna drink that again.” She walks to the kitchen and pours the offending beverage down the sink with grim satisfaction.

“That didn’t deserve to be called tea,” she announces, returning to the sitting room. Mikael nods and smiles at her.

“Let’s stick to the more traditional flavours this time.”


	9. 9th December - Penetrator Chris

Chris tugs at his shirt collar nervously while he waits for Eva to arrive. They agreed to meet in this café ‘to catch up’ since Chris’s deployment in the military keeps them from seeing each other as often as they used to. They’ve had several of these dates, and all of them ended up being very enjoyable for the both of them. However, there has been a little too much talk of _other people_ for Chris’s taste – from Eva’s side, of course. Chris would never talk about his other hook-ups in front of her.

Eva finally enters the café, and Chris gestures towards the already drawn out chair across from him. He can be a gentleman, if he feels like it. Eva smiles at him. Behind her, the face of the waitress he was flirting with before Eva’s arrival falls. Chris winks at her to cheer her up – a promise for another day –, then focuses on the girl in front of him.

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” he says smoothly, which makes her roll her eyes.

“It’s the ninth, Chris,” she says with a mix of exasperation and teasing in her voice. He apologises dutifully.

“Merry advent, then,” he corrects himself. “Had something nice in your advent calendar today?”

“Yes, actually,” Eva says with a sweet smile. “And you?”

Chris performs what he thinks is a passable impression of someone being reminded of something they forgot to do. “I haven’t opened it yet. How convenient that I happen to have it with me!” Eva raises an eyebrow at him lazily while he pulls a packet of small cards from his pocket and pulls out the topmost one, which has a large 9 imprinted on it. He turns it over and looks at Eva over the top of it. “Do you wanna know what it says?”

Eva raises her second eyebrow as well. “Surprise me.”

“ _Feel my shirt,_ ” he reads and places Eva’s hand on his chest. “ _Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material._ ” He looks up at her and winks. Eva snorts and smiles as she cocks her head the way she does, and he wants her, for himself. She’s a treasure to be claimed, and none of the _other people_ she’s been talking about deserve her. She grins deviously.

“I’ll take it.”

Chris lowers the hand holding the card and stares at her in surprise. They’ve been over this before, and although he really does want her, the pursuit has become more of a game by now. He didn’t really expect she’d say yes.

“The shirt,” Eva clarifies. Chris relaxes but can’t help feeling a pang of annoyance. Still, he smirks through the insult like he always does.

“You’re free to take it off me, of course,” he says in a low voice. “I do however suggest we do that somewhere private.”


	10. 10th December - Ingrid

The first thing Vilde does when she follows Ingrid into her room is sniff. “It smells so nice in here!” she says brightly. “Like a fireplace or something!” She inhales deeply and closes her eyes. “Mmmh. How do you do that?”

Ingrid smiles at her excitement. “Scented candles,” she explains and points at collection of them on her drawer. Nine of them, to be exact. “I get them from my advent calendar.”

“Really? That’s so lovely,” Vilde says as Ingrid walks over to the window and opens it.  “I’m sorry,” she says to Vilde, who shivers as the winter air reaches her. “I just want to get some fresh air in here so we can smell today’s candle better.” She pulls a woollen blanket from the back rest of her armchair, pulls Vilde down onto her bed and wraps her arms with the blanket around the both of them. Vilde snuggles up to her and Ingrid closes her eyes to breathe in the scent of Vilde’s coconut shampoo. “I don’t know what I need scented candles for when I have you,” she mumbles into her girlfriend’s hair and feels Vilde smile into her neck.

Ingrid would have happily stayed cuddled up with Vilde for the rest of the day, but eventually the room does get too cold and she reluctantly untangles herself to close the window. Vilde sits up to watch her pull a new candle out of her advent calendar and smell it.

“Oh, this smells nice,” Ingrid says and takes another deep breath before walking over to her bed and holding it out for Vilde to sniff, which she does.

“Mmmh, you’re right, that’s delicious!” Vilde says. “It’s making me hungry. What is it, apple pie?”

Ingrid turns the candle over to look at the label on the bottom. “Apple spice and cinnamon,” she reads and holds it up to her nose again. “Which is basically apple pie.”

“I really want some now,” Vilde says wistfully.

Ingrid grins. “Let’s bake one.”


	11. 11th December - Mahdi

Mahdi’s stomach starts to growl at the exact moment they enter his family’s apartment. “Good timing,” he says to Jonas and immediately heads for the kitchen. “What do you want?” he calls to Jonas, who is still taking off his shoes in the hallway. “We have bread and cuttings, some leftover soup from yesterday, uhh… Oh! And the contents of my advent calendar!”

Jonas joins him in the kitchen with a slightly sceptical expression. “I’m not sure one piece of chocolate would make for a full lunch,” he says before he sees the actual calendar. “Oh. Cereal?”

“Cereal,” Mahdi agrees happily. “There’s a different kind for every day! I usually eat it for breakfast but I was in a rush this morning.”

“You have a cereal advent calendar,” Jonas repeats because apparently he’s still not over the fact.

“Yes, bro, it’s right before your eyes,” Mahdi says impatiently. He’s already busy trying to pull today’s small packet of cereal out of the calendar. Finally, he succeeds and holds his treasure out to Jonas. “Ta-da!”

Jonas bursts into laughter. “ _Kellogg’s Disney Frozen Cereal_ ,” he reads from the front of the box. “Are you sure you’re the target consumer for this advent calendar?”

“Shut up,” Mahdi says, unable to suppress a chuckle. “What matters is how it tastes, not what’s on the box.”

“That’s deep, bro,” Jonas comments in a serious voice accompanied by a grave nod.

“Shut up,” Mahdi says again. “Do you want some, er” – he looks at the box again – “ _grain product from rice, wholegrain oats and corn with vanilla flavour_ or not?”

“Nah thanks, man,” Jonas replies, still snickering. “I’ll take the bread and leave Princess Anna to you.”

“Is that her name?” Mahdi asks absentmindedly while attempting to tear open the plastic bag containing the cereal. “Wait, how do you know that? Have you actually _seen_ the movie?”

Jonas raises his hands defensively. “My sister made me watch it! She requested it for family night, there was nothing I could do!”

Mahdi squints at him. “Your sister is sixteen.”

“So? Girls of all ages watch Disney. Some of these films have important messages!”

“Not just girls, apparently,” Mahdi teases. “Doesn’t Disney go against all of your principles? With capitalism and sexism and stuff?”

“It’s getting better,” Jonas defends himself. “The newer movies have some really strong female characters. Besides,” he adds quietly, “they’re really cute. And wholesome.”

Mahdi grins and claps Jonas on the back. “That’s chill, bro,” he says good-naturedly. “Whatever makes you happy. I even promise I won’t tell the boys.” Jonas looks at him with a silent thank you in his eyes and Mahdi’s smile widens. “Now, do you want some of these cereal?”


	12. 12th December - Iben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many people have asked me to keep surprising you. Personally I don't think this pairing is very surprising, but I had to create a new relationship tag for it...? Judge for yourselves.

Iben blinks at the first rays of the sun that make their way through her curtains, yawns, and nudges Eva with her foot. “Hey, you.”

She doesn’t stir. There are many things the two girls have in common, but rising early is not one of them. Iben nudges once more. “Evaaaa!” Again, no response.

A smile spreads over Iben’s face as a new idea comes to her. With one big tug she pulls the duvet off Eva’s body, then crawls over to pin the sleeping girl’s hips between her thighs. “Three,” she proclaims threateningly. “Two. One… Attack!” And with that, her tickling fingers swoop down onto the helpless girl  beneath her.

It is very effective. Eva wakes with a yelp and manages to hit herself in the face in an instinctive but uncoordinated attempt at staving off Iben’s advances. “Stop- you- This isn’t fair,” she pants between fits of giggles. “Oh really? This – isn’t – fair?” Iben replies, jabbing Eva with every word. “You wouldn’t wake up and left me awake all alone, that’s not fair either!”

“Awww,” Eva says and leans up to place a kiss on Iben’s lips. “Well I’m awake now.”

“Good,” Iben hums and rolls off the bed to pad over to the advent calendar on her wall. It’s a large, artful one with a traditional painting on the front. It shows a big house covered in snow, beautifully decorated with pine twigs, candles, and mistletoe. An angel is sitting on the rooftop, and deer, foxes and squirrels are peeking out of the bushes. But the most important thing are the 24 windows. Behind each of them, a tiny but wonderful picture is just waiting to be discovered.

Eva’s bare feet make no sound on the carpet as she comes over to hug Iben from behind. “Why don’t you have a calendar with gifts in it?” she asks. “Why just pictures?”

Iben smiles. “Because it’s more magical,” she says. “There’s nothing magical about a piece of chocolate, or a lipstick, or whatever else people get in their fancy advent calendars. But pictures…” She puts her finger on today’s window, then turns her head towards Eva. “Who do you think will be behind it?” she asks quietly. “Which inhabitant of the house will we get to know today?” Iben pauses, and when Eva doesn’t reply she gently opens the window, taking care not to tear the cardboard.

Behind it is an elf. He’s small, with dark brown curls and translucent wings, and peeks out from behind a winter rose that’s standing on the windowsill. Iben smiles delightedly. “What do you think his name is?” she asks Eva. “Do you think he’s the son of that lady elf from the eighth window? Does the dog from the third one belong to him? I bet he sometimes flies down and chases the squirrels.”

Eva takes Iben’s shoulders and turn her around to face her. There’s a warm glint in her eyes that Iben has come to recognize as a mix of amusement and affection. “I love you,” Eva breathes and wraps her arms around Iben. Iben just smiles to herself and buries her face in Eva’s hair.


	13. 13th December - Adam

Adam looks up when he hears the familiar “Ugh, sorry!” that usually announces people entering his room and stepping onto one of his jigsaw puzzles in the process. (Nobody ever enters his room without stepping onto a puzzle, unless they come on Tuesdays, on which his mother forces him to remove all puzzles from his floor to clean.) 

This time, the “Ugh, sorry!” comes from Mutta, and he is standing on Adam’s current work in progress. It’s a large and beautiful picture of a winter landscape, fiendishly difficult because of all the white. So far, it’s a little more than halfway finished.

“Hello,” Adam says and smiles at his friend. 

“Did I mess up the arrangement of any of the loose pieces?” Mutta asks, checking the bottom of his socks to make sure no puzzle pieces are stuck to them. “Oh. There are no loose pieces. Where are they?”

Usually, Adam takes great care to spread out and sort all the pieces before he even starts the puzzle – dividing not only edge and centre pieces, but also according to colour, motif and shape. But with this one, the loose pieces are nowhere to be seen.

“It’s from my advent calendar,” Adam explains. “I get a bunch of pieces every day, and at the end the puzzle will be complete.” He pulls open a little drawer in the advent calendar sitting on the desk in front of him and pulls out a small plastic bag full of pieces. “Will you help me lay today’s ones?”

Mutta nods and gets on his knees beside the patchy winter landscape. Adam joins him and carefully tears open the bag. The forty pieces are quickly sorted: white snow, blue mountains, purple sky. A forest of pine trees on the right half of the puzzle is already complete, and so is the couple of wooden cottages that are cowering in the snow. All that’s left is the background work, the hard part. Adam has all the pieces placed in no time anyway.

“How do you do that so quickly?” Mutta demands and Adam shrugs.

“Practice makes perfect,” he says and gets to his feet. “Come on, let’s go get lunch.”


	14. 14th December - Linn

There is a quiet knock on the door. Linn turns her head towards it. “Mhmm?”

“Hey, good morning,” Eskild says, sticking his head into her room. “Or good afternoon, actually. I made spaghetti for lunch and thought you might want some.”

Linn looks at him, hoping he’ll see the yes in her eyes. Nodding takes a ridiculous amount of energy.

Eskild reads her, of course. “That’s great!” he says. “It’s in the kit- You haven’t opened your advent calendar yet?!”

Linn snorts at his scandalized expression. “It’s really not that exciting.”

“Of course it’s exciting, Linn! Christmas is exciting! Getting presents is exciting! And an advent calendar is both!”

Linn blinks at him, wondering dimly where he takes his enthusiasm from. But when he looks at her with puppy eyes and goes “Pleeeeeeeaaaaaase,” she can’t deny him. So she rolls over in bed until her feet fall to the floor, sits up slowly and gets on her feet… only to fall back onto her bed as the room goes dark before her eyes. Stupid body.

While she waits for the dark spots to disappear, Eskild is running his hands over the calendar hanging on her wall. “I’m gonna open it if you don’t hurry up,” he teases and takes her hand. “Come on!”

She can’t help but smile at his excitement and lets him lead her over to the wall to pull out today’s piece of paper. Unfolding it reveals a Christmas bauble with an intricate pattern, nothing more than black lines on white paper. Yet.

Linn walks to her window and opens the curtains to reveal thirteen more pictures, each of them bright and colourful. She considers them for a moment, then looks down at the plain paper in her hands, already filling it with colours in her mind.

Still smiling, she puts it down on her desk next to the set of beautiful coloured pencils Eskild gave her together with the calendar, then follows him into the kitchen to eat.


	15. 15th December - Mikael

“You haven’t opened your advent calendar yet,” Even says with a vaguely accusatory undertone the moment they enter Mikael’s room.

“Why would I?” Mikael asks defensively. “I can’t very well write during the lectures, can I?”

“You could,” Even sniffs, “If you wanted to. You could at least think about the prompt I gave you.”

“Some of us actually pay attention in class, Even,” Mikael says drily. “I’d rather think about the prompt when I actually have time to write it.”

“Like now?” Even suggests. Mikael narrows his eyes.

“I’m starting to wonder what you decided to make me write today that makes you so eager to see me find out.”

Even shrugs. “Nothing special,” he says nonchalantly. Mikael doesn’t believe him, but he tears the sticky note labelled _15_ from the wall above his desk anyway and turns it over to read the prompt. He raises his eyebrows at Even, but can’t suppress a chuckle. “ _Write a person you know into ‘Strictly Ballroom’_?” he reads out loud. “Is this you trying to star in a Baz Luhrmann movie?”

Now Even is the one to laugh. “That’s not what I was thinking of, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did that,” he says. “You know the way you portray someone in writing reveals what you really think about them.”

“So what are you expecting to discover when I write about you?” Mikael asks. “That I secretly hate you because only pretentious twats stan Baz Luhrmann? In that case I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I hate you quite openly.”

Even thanks him with a hearty push. “Shut up, you know you love me.”

“Pretty sure I don’t,” Mikael says. “Not after this. _Strictly Ballroom_? Out of all the romantic comedies you could have picked?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Even asks. “I thought you like to be challenged.”

“Yes, but you do have to know a thing or two about the subject you’re writing about,” Mikael complains. “I don’t know shit about ballroom dancing.”

Even raises his eyebrows. “What, seriously?!” he exclaims in mock outrage. “Time to learn then!” Without a moment’s hesitation he plugs his phone into Mikael’s speakers, taps a few buttons and returns to where Mikael is standing beside the desk. He takes one of Mikael’s hands in his, places his other one on Mikael’s upper body and whirls him into the centre of the room. Mikael promptly stumbles over his own feet.

“Bro, this is what you have Isak for,” he protests as the first notes of an all too familiar song resonate through the room. “ _Last Christmas?_ What is wrong with you?”

“It’s romantic,” Even explains impatiently, “and I need the practice. Now shut up and dance with me.”

“Hang on one minute,” Mikael says, raising an eyebrow. “You need the practice? For what, pray tell?”

Even stops his attempts at pushing and pulling Mikael into various directions and lowers his eyes, blushing slightly. “I just want Christmas with Isak to be really romantic,” he mumbles. “I want it to be perfect.”

Mikael lets out a long breath and smiles fondly. “Of course you do,” he says quietly, amusement plain in his voice. “Fine, I’ll help you practice your dancing. But Even?”

“Yes?”

“You could just have asked.”


	16. 16th December - Chris

Chris flinches as Sana closes her laptop with a bang. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she complains, frustration plain in her voice. “If that’s really what the author meant to say, then why didn’t he just say it outright and not through five levels of metaphors?”

“It does make sense,” Chris explains patiently. “He wrote it that way because the political situation required for him to do so. And maybe he just wanted to write something nice.”

“Nothing about poetry is nice,” Sana mumbles crossly. “Why do we even have to learn about that? When are we ever going to use this?”

“It teaches us critical and analytical thinking,” Chris says wisely. “It’s an important part of a well-rounded education. But we can take a break.” She closes her own laptop as well and lies back on her bed, trying to come up with a way to cheer her friend up a little. Nobody is allowed to be in a bad mood around her for any reason – not if she can do something to help. 

“Oh, right,” she says out loud and jumps up from the bed, startling Sana out of her undoubtedly dark and brooding thoughts.

“What are you doing?” Sana wants to know as she watches Chris hurry over to the tear-off calendar stuck to her door.

“Making you feel better,” Chris says and puts the sheet bearing yesterday’s date as well as the words _Why are Christmas trees so bad at sewing? Because they always lose their needles_ carefully onto her desk before returning to the calendar. “ _What do you get when you combine a Christmas tree with an iPad_?” she reads out and raises a questioning eyebrow at Sana, who shrugs.

“An iPad covered in needles?”

“Wrong. A pineapple.”

Sana closes her eyes in exasperation, but can’t keep herself from giggling. Watching her, Chris feels laughter well up her belly as well. She loves Sana’s laugh, the clear sound, the way her eyes sparkle and her entire face lights up, making it impossible to believe that she is such a serious person most of the time.

Sana notices Chris watching her and stops laughing, returning her gaze with still gleaming eyes. “Chris,” she says warmly, smiling at her friend, “you’re such a wonderful person to have around. I’m so incredibly glad that you’re my friend.”

Chris looks back at her, unable to speak. Finally, she manages to clear her throat and croak, “I’m glad I have you too.”


	17. 17th December - Isak

Isak wakes up around noon to the noise of Even banging things in the kitchen. He stretches, pulls his T-shirt that’s slid up during the night down over his belly, and goes to investigate.

“Good morning!” Even says cheerfully, flashing Isak a smile before resuming the process of stacking up bottles of hot sauce. Isak stares.

“That’s a lot of hot sauce,” he says blankly. “You don’t even like spicy food.”

“No, but you do,” Even says. “Open your advent calendar and it’ll all make sense.”

Isak raises his eyebrows sceptically, but he walks back into their bedroom obediently. His advent calendar consists of 24 folded pieces of paper, all with a hole punched into a corner and hung on a glittery red string. Well, it used to be 24 pieces of paper. Now, there’s only eight left. Isak plucks the one with the 17 on it off the string and unfolds it. “ _Make today’s food as spicy as you like_ ,” he reads in a slightly raised voice so Even can hear. He dumps the voucher on the bed and returns to the kitchen.

“Even, just how much hot sauce do you think it takes to make food spicy?” he asks. Even shrugs.

“I wouldn’t know, so I bought enough to be sure.”

“Right,” Isak says. “Did you also buy the ingredients for any specific dish or do I have to see what I can find?”

“I’ve got minced meat and beans and corn so you can make your chili,” Even says happily and places the last bottle of sauce on the stack. “You can start whenever.”

So, still in his pyjamas, Isak sets to work. He loves chili con carne; his mother often made it for him when he was little and it was the first dish he tried to cook for himself when his mother stopped. He has perfected it over the years, and recently did a fair bit of complaining because Even only tolerated less than the appropriate amount of spiciness, making the dish bland in Isak’s eyes. Not today though. Isak has to admit he enjoys going through all the different brands of hot sauce Even bought, sniffing and tasting them to determine which one would go best with his chili.

Finally the chili is done and Isak and Even sit down for lunch.

“Did you have any breakfast,” Even asks, “or are you just gonna eat that on an empty stomach?

Isak shrugs. “I’ve had worse on an empty stomach,” he says. “Besides, I already tasted all the sauces so it’s not technically empty.”

“So how hot did you make this,” Even asks carefully, and Isak shrugs again.

“Just until it tasted right, with a little extra,” he says.

“Right.” Even eyes his plate with apprehension. He closes his eyes, opens his mouth, and with a squaring of his shoulders he bangs the spoon determinately against his nose.

Isak nearly spits out his own chili as he bursts into laughter. “It doesn’t get less spicy when you don’t see it, Even,” he says after swallowing with great effort. “I suggest you keep your eyes open.”

“Fine,” Even says and lifts the spoon to the right place this time. Isak watches him intently as he takes a tiny tentative sip. “That’s actually not that bad,” Even decides. Isak raises his eyebrows.

“Great,” he says. “That means you can eat a decent mouthful now.” He takes the still full spoon from Even’s hand and guides it gently into his boyfriend’s mouth. Even coughs promptly.

“I’m pretty sure I can breathe fire now,” he gasps once he’s managed to swallow and downed two glasses of milk. “How do you eat that?”

“You get used to it,” Isak says and returns to his own food. Then he looks up at Even and grins. “There’s rice in the small pot if you want. I’m gonna eat the rest of this.”


	18. 18th December - Magnus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all my left-handed readers. You're not alone.

Magnus and Mahdi are on their way home from school when Magnus’s phone suddenly erupts into a cacophony of bells and mildly disturbing _Ho Ho Ho_ ’s accompanied by violins producing generic Christmas tunes.

“What the fuck is that?” Mahdi asks, shooting Magnus a glance of mild disgust.  Magnus just grins.

“My advent calendar,” he says happily, pulling his phone out of his pocket and silencing the seasonal alarm. “I have an app for it.”

Mahdi looks sceptical. “You need an app to remind you to open your advent calendar?”

“Ha, no,” Magnus snorts. “The app gives me a cool fact every day until Christmas!”

“Oh is that why we had to have that conversation about small children being able to swim in whale’s veins yesterday,” Mahdi grumbles unenthusiastically.

“Yes,” Magnus says. “And today…” he checks his phone, “oh my god, seriously? _Every year more than 2500 left-handed people are killed from using right-handed products,_ ” he reads out. “How? Do they pinch themselves in the eye with the wrong scissors?”

“Easy for you to laugh about it,” Mahdi says. “You’re an innocent child raised with right-handed privilege. You have no idea.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Come on. Right-handed privilege?”

Mahdi nods seriously. “Technically, everybody who dies from using an object that isn’t explicitly for lefties dies from using right-handed products,” he declares. “ _Everything_ is designed for right-handed people. Mugs, bottle caps, scoops, computer mice, video game controllers, phones – I keep accidentally pressing the volume buttons when I try to switch mine on! Not to mention the fact that everyone wants to shake your right hand.”

“You’re passionate about this,” Magnus observes. “Are you done?”

“No,” Mahdi says crossly. “Those chairs with little tables attached to them in schools? Try writing with nothing to put your arm on! These pens attached to chains you get at reception desks? You bet the chain won’t be long enough for you to take the pen into your left hand. The numbers on rulers are upside down, and don’t even get me started on the pain of using can openers. Credit card machines have the swiping slots on the right, the binding of spiral notebooks digs into your arm, binders are even worse, and everything you wrote in pencil will end up as a big silver splotch on the side of your hand.” He takes a deep breath. “Now I’m done.”

Magnus stares at him. “Wait, you’re left-handed? My cousin is also left-handed! How do you guys write like that?”

Mahdi gives him a flat look. “That’s three out of four. You’re missing _OMG you must be sooo creative but really bad at science right?_ ”

“Three out of four what?”

“Standard responses of right-handed people finding out I’m a leftie,” Mahdi explains. “By the way, the answers are one: no, I write with the wrong hand for fun; two: I really don’t care; three: the same way you write with your right hand you dipshit; and four: no.” He counts the points on his fingers. Magnus considers this.

“So the 2500 people die from accidentally turning their phone volume too far up and blasting their brains out?” he asks.

“Or from the frustration of losing FIFA matches they know they would’ve won if they could’ve used their left hand,” Mahdi agrees. “Good thing you’re such a noob I can kick your ass anyway.”

“Hey!” Magnus interjects, “Not true! I’ve practiced since we last played! I bet I can beat you now!”

Mahdi nods slowly and says, “Deal. Loser buys the beer.”


	19. 19th December - Noora

Noora and Eva dump their school bags in a corner and collapse onto Noora’s bed.

“What, no Christmas decorations? And you haven’t opened your advent calendar yet either,” Eva observes.

“Of course I haven’t,” Noora says. “I can only open my advent calendar when I’ve finished all my homework and have made myself a cup of tea.”

Eva purses her lips. “Why not? Wouldn’t daily inspirational quotes be more useful in the morning?”

“Maybe,” Noora admits. “But in the morning I haven’t done anything to earn it. Besides, I don’t have time in the mornings.”

“You’re always at least fifteen minutes early for school,” Eva says with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, but… I don’t know. It has to be done properly.” _And it would mess up my morning routine,_ Noora thinks and sighs. There’s really no way to explain _why_ those routines are so important to her – she doesn’t even know the answer herself, not really. All she knows is that if she doesn’t follow them, her life is going to descend into chaos and there won’t be anything left for her to hold on to.

Eva rolls onto her side and pulls her hands underneath her cheek to look imploringly up at Noora. “Can we open it now? We don’t have anything due tomorrow.” When Noora hesitates, she adds, “I know you finished that Spanish essay during the free period today, so you have achieved something!”

Noora raises one eyebrow, an amused smile playing around her lips. “Why do you want me to open my advent calendar this badly?”

“Because,” Eva says, rolling onto her back again and reaching up to play with a strand of Noora’s hair, “I think you could really use a nice quote right now. I’ll even go and make us some tea.”

Noora considers this for a moment, then she sighs in mock exasperation. “Fine,” she says. “But I’ll make the tea.”

When she returns to her room, Eva has gotten up from the bed and positioned herself in front of the calendar that’s hanging above her desk. It is shaped like a normal calendar with a page for each month, but instead of dates the current page shows yesterday’s date and ‘ _Any woman who is sure of her own wits, is a match, at any time, for a man who is not sure of his own temper (Wilkie Collins)’_ in a fancy font, surrounded by a garland of pine twigs and other Christmassy things. After setting down the teacups Noora takes it carefully off its hook and settles cross-legged on her bed. She runs her hand over yesterday’s words one more time before turning the page.

_‘Be the change you want to see in the world,’_ today’s sheet proclaims in black letters surrounded by bluish snowflakes.

“That’s nice,” Eva says into Noora’s ear, making her flinch. “If you know what kind of change you want to be.” 

Noora leans back into the arms Eva is wrapping around her and hums. “I do know that though,” she says decidedly. “I’m sure of that.”


	20. 20th December - Boy Squad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't make an extra gift for the skamfiction secret santa, so the least I can do is give you a special chapter. I hope you like it :)

The whole thing started with Even deciding that his and Isak’s apartment absolutely needed to be decorated for Christmas despite the fact that they couldn’t afford it, and the rest of the boys recklessly promising they’d do what they could to help decorate the flat.

They regretted their promise when they found out that what Even _could_ afford was a stack of coloured paper and a book of origami tutorials.

Even decided that each of them would have to make one decoration per day, following the instructions he would post in their group chat every morning. And this is why Isak, Jonas, Mahdi and Magnus now find themselves sitting in the library during a free period, the table between them littered with different coloured paper, scissors, and glue.

“That,” Mahdi declares after taking his first look at the picture in the instructions, “looks way too complicated.”

“What a waste of paper,” Magnus comments. “You need six sheets for one of these things!”

Isak is skimming through the instructions. “This is gonna take ages,” he says.

“Then stop complaining and get started,” Jonas says and grabs a piece of paper.

“Why did we agree to do this again?” Mahdi asks while they all dutifully fold their papers into triangles.

“You’ve said that every single day,” Isak says and discovers that the edges of his paper aren’t aligned despite his best efforts. “Dammit!”

“Well why do you need 24 times four pieces of folded paper as Christmas decoration?” Mahdi demands. “Wouldn’t ten have been enough?”

“Shut up, I know for a fact that you’re enjoying this,” Magnus says. “You made another one of those Christmas tree things at home and put it in your room. Why is mine falling apart?”

“Because you cut into the closed side instead of the open one, you dipshit,” Jonas replies, rolling his eyes. “When you cut the one side that’s holding the paper together, it falls apart.”

“Duh,” Magnus mumbles and takes a fresh sheet.

Isak pauses. “Wait, which side are you supposed to cut?” he asks, holding up his piece.

“The other one,” Jonas informs him. Isak groans, crunches his paper into a ball and gets told off by the librarian for attempting to throw it into the bin and missing.

“Shit, I think I glued the wrong ends together,” Mahdi says, scrutinizing his work. “Oh, no I didn’t. I forgot to turn it over before gluing. Still works,” he says, shrugging.

“It looks shit though!” Isak complains. “I’m the one who’s gonna have to look at that until January!”

“Yeah, well, I’m the one who has to make it,” Mahdi retorts, unimpressed. “I’m not starting over.”

“You’re a horrible friend,” Isak declares.

“You’re all horrible at crafting,” Jonas says. “You’d think after nineteen days of practice you’d be getting a little better at this. It’s really not that hard.”

“Not all of us have mothers who forced us to do seasonal crafts every year since the age of four,” Magnus grumbles. “You had a head start.”

“I’ve finished my first one is what I have,” Jonas says. “Am I really supposed to make five more of these?”

“Why don’t we just make six total and then stick all of ours together to make one star,” Mahdi suggests. “Each of us makes one and Jonas can make three.”

Jonas huffs. “Fine,” he says. “I can probably make two more in the time it takes all of you to finish your first one.”

Eventually they do manage to assemble all six points of the star and even staple them together correctly on the first attempt. Isak inspects the finished product.

“How the hell am I supposed to get this home?”

“In your hand,” Jonas advises. “It’s not gonna survive being in your bag.”

“Imagine if we’d made four of these,” Mahdi says drily. “You’d have walked home looking like a Christmas tree.”

“It is kind of pretty though,” Magnus says. “I’d put that in front of my window.”

“Great!” Isak says and pushes the star into his hand. “Take it.”

“But what’s Even gonna say?” Magnus protests. “It’s for him!”

“Even needs to learn that there is such a thing as too many origami decorations in a flat of 32m²,” Isak decides. “Consider it a Christmas present from him.”

“Okay then,” Magnus says happily and looks at his new ornament. “Wait. How am _I_ supposed to get this home?”


	21. 21st December - Dr. Skrulle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted from my phone because my laptop died and I can't get my charger until Saturday. The formatting may or may not end up being a mess. We'll see.
> 
> A big thank you to JM for reminding me that I still have the copy of the work my beta sent me in a google doc, otherwise there wouldn't have been a chapter today.

Ida is about to pack up and lock the practice over Christmas when there is a knock on the door.

“Come on in,” she calls. The door opens, and Chris Berg appears behind it. Ida greets her with a warm smile. Chris has been in and out of her office since her first year, about various things – mostly concerning her friends. Ida sincerely doubts the other girls know just what a friend they have in the quiet Chris, but she has long since learned that it is futile to try and change the way people think about others. What she can change, however, is how people see themselves, and she has made it her mission to do so wherever necessary. Chris is one of those people.

Today, however, she doesn’t seem to have come with a worry on her mind. Instead, she brings her hands out from behind her back to reveal a parcel, carefully wrapped in a paper decorated with sunbathing Santas. “This is for you,” Chris says shyly, holding the present out to Ida. “I thought you deserve a little something, as a thank you.”

Ida feels her face break into a smile. She’s been working at this school for a long time, but students who thank her are rare. Students who give her Christmas presents even more so.

“I appreciate that you’re always there for me,” Chris continues, eyes fixed on the floor. “That you listen. And you give advice that makes me feel better.” She raises her head. “I think you’re a really good doctor.”

Ida can’t suppress the pride that wells up inside her. Yes, she is proud – of this girl that’s standing before her and showing others more kindness than she ever received, and of herself, a simple school nurse who managed to make a girl like Chris recognise her own beauty.

“I’m glad I did that for you,” she tells Chris. “That is why I took this job, you know. In the hope that I could make a few teenagers feel better.” She considers for a moment and then asks, “Do you know Marianne Williamson? I had one of her poems in my advent calendar today. Here, read it.” She hands the girl the sheet of paper she has brought to stick to a wall in her office. It reads:

_Our deepest fear is not_   
_That we are inadequate_   
_Our deepest fear is_   
_that we are powerful beyond measure._

_It is our light, not our darkness_   
_that most frightens us_   
_We ask ourselves_   
_Who am I_   
_to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, famous?_

_Actually,_   
_who are you not to be?_

_You are a child of God._   
_Your playing small does not save the world._   
_There is nothing enlightened about shrinking_   
_so that other people won’t feel insecure around you._

_We are all meant to shine, as children do._   
_We were born to make a manifest_   
_in the glory of God that is within us._

_It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone._

_And as we let our own light shine,_   
_we unconsciously give other people the permission to do the same._

_As we are liberated from our own fear,_   
_our presence automatically liberates others._

Chris finishes reading and smiles up at her. “That’s beautiful,” she says.

“Keep it,” Ida tells her. “Put it in your room and remember it. And don’t be afraid to shine.”

Chris slides the paper into her school bag almost reverently. “Thank you,” she says. “I will try.”

 


	22. 22nd December - Sana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded from my phone again. I'll have my laptop back tomorrow though!

Sana is sitting at her desk and mulling over her Norwegian essay when there’s a quiet knock on her door. Sighing, she closes her laptop, leans back in her chair and calls, “Come in.”

The door opens and Yousef sticks his head through the door. “Are you busy?” he asks with a glance at the notes spread across the desk. Sana shakes her head.

“I wasn’t getting anywhere with that anyway,” she says and turns her chair around to face Yousef, raising her eyebrows. “Is it time?”

“It is indeed,” Yousef replies. He closes the door behind him and pulls a slip of paper out of his hoodie, offering it to Sana. “Your daily compliment, m’lady.”

Sana rolls her eyes. She opposes the notion of having an advent calendar, even a self-made one, but Yousef insisted on giving her what Elias mockingly called the _notvent calendar_ : Once a day she will find a compliment somewhere, either written on a paper and left around the house or as a message on one of her social media. Or, apparently, handed over in person.

“You couldn’t just have told me the compliment instead of writing it down?” she asks as she takes the paper from Yousef and unfolds it.

_I love how fiercely you fight for what you think is right_.

Sana snorts. “For what I _think_ is right?” she asks, acting offended. “I think you mean the absolute and universal truth.”

They burst into laughter at the same time.

“I also love the sound of your laugh,” Yousef says, lowering his gaze with a slight blush on his cheeks. Sana can’t deny that he’s looking adorable.

“You told me that already,” she says, looking away to hide the colour that’s rising in her own face. “On day four. Are you running out of ideas?”

Yousef looks up and smirks at her. “You know, one of the motives behind this advent calendar is to get you to just accept a compliment,” he says. “That’s somewhat of a weakness of yours.” And with that, he turns around and leaves her alone in her room.


	23. 23rd December - Eva

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… this is a somewhat special chapter that I am very nervous about. It has a few WARNINGS that are spoilery so you’ll find them in the end notes. I promise that all Skam characters stay healthy and happy though! I very much hope you enjoy it ❤️

The first thing Eva feels when she wakes up are soft lips on hers, a warm hand on her cheek, and the delicious scent of hot chocolate. She opens her eyes and looks into Jonas’s green ones.

“Good morning,” he murmurs and kisses her again. “I made you hot chocolate.”

Eva smiles and hums contently. “Are you going to make a habit of that?” she teases.

“Don’t push your luck,” Jonas replies while placing a tray across both their legs. Aside from two mugs of hot chocolate it also holds a plate of biscuits the two of them baked yesterday. Eva raises her eyebrows. “Biscuits before breakfast?”

“It’s Christmas!” Jonas says. “Besides, technically the first thing you eat in a day is your breakfast. Call it your first breakfast.”

“You have a point,” Eva concedes and sits up in bed to lean her back against his chest. She’s about to take a sip from her mug when she remembers. “Oh! I have something to make first breakfast in bed even better,” she tells Jonas and crawls out from beneath the blanket.

“Really? What’s that?” Jonas asks, watching her as she pads over to her advent calendar that’s lying on the drawer next to her armchair. It’s a book, large and beautiful with an actual linen cover. Eva smiles at it before holding it up for Jonas to see.

“A story!” she says happily. “I’ll read you today’s while we eat.” She tucks the book calendar under her arm, climbs back into bed, and snuggles up to Jonas. She takes a sip of hot chocolate and begins to read.

 

* * *

 

**Salvation**

One day he just stood there.

I don’t know why I turned around, as I hadn’t heard him coming. In fact, there had been nothing at all to announce his presence. But turn around I did, and there he was.

He was young, like me, though I couldn’t quite guess his age. He wore simple trousers and a simple shirt, and just a light jacket despite the cold. His eyes were blue, and he was looking at me.

I had never seen another person in the hollow before. Nobody came up here; it was remote and hard to reach, and the walk was an uncomfortable one across bare stone and icy slopes. This was my place, mine and Tyen’s.

Yet I did not mind his presence. Maybe it was the way he stood there between the pine trees, keeping his distance, one foot turned slightly towards the lake as if he, too, were drawn to it, his life tied to the waters of the mountain pool like that of every living creature in the vale. He belonged here.

He remained silent and so did I, watching him for a few more moments before resuming my quiet contemplation of the lake. Smooth as a mirror it lay in the centre of the tiny valley, its water emitting the smell of ice that filled the entire hollow even in summer. This smell was the only thing that hinted at the lake’s deadliness. The water came from the glaciers that filled the corries of each of the five peaks that surrounded the hollow; in winter they reached down to the very shores of the pool. Now, in late spring, they had retreated a bit, leaving a stretch of grey rock bare between the green and the white. It was a bare place, the hollow. Cold and windless and filled with a rigid, empty silence, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

And him.

He had closed the distance between us now, standing only a few feet away on the rough pebbles that made up the beach. His eyes, like mine, were fixed on the lake, gazing thoughtfully into the clear water. They reflected the colour of the lake, just as its surface reflected the sky’s wintry blue.

‘It’s like needles,’ I said, not looking at him. He didn’t look at me either, but I knew he was listening. ‘Like a thousand needles piercing every inch of your skin.’ 

He turned towards me. His face was blank, showing not a hint of emotion, but his eyes were glowing with warmth. My own eyes were drawn to them like insects to the light.

‘Then you go numb,’ I went on softly. ‘Complete paralysis. You can’t move a single muscle. At this point, it’s only your will that keeps you going. Willpower and strength.’

I didn’t know why I was talking. Talking about this, talking at all. Talking here. All I knew was that it felt right to do so.

‘Some things just need to be told,’ he said gently. I shook my head.

‘Some things should never be told.’

‘Yet all things will, in the end.’ He turned to look up at Michael’s Sword, the highest of the surrounding peaks. The sun was starting to set behind it. ‘Elijah.’

It was his name. He said it quietly, offhandedly, speaking more to himself than to me, but it was enough to fill me with the warm sensation of familiarity. His soft voice made me feel like I had always known him, known him so well that we were beyond names. Even so, perhaps to square things between us, perhaps just to say something in return, I added my own. ‘Laith.’ It came out in a whisper, a breath. The last breath of a dying child.

‘Laith, look!’

I turn around and see a small figure balancing on a large boulder that lies at the edge of the pool, almost completely surrounded by the icy water.

‘Get down here,’ I say. Tyen ignores me.

‘This one bounced six times!’ he calls proudly. ‘Did you see that? Six!’

‘It totally didn’t,’ I say in mock protest. ‘I was watching and it bounced five times, you little cheat. Now come on, get off that boulder.’

‘It totally did,’ Tyen declares. ‘I can show you!’ He takes another one of the pebbles and throws, leaning forward, putting all his weight on his left foot that is perched precariously on the edge of the slippery rock.

‘Don’t!’ I call, but too late. I know the place – despite its closeness to the shore, the waters are deep there. Too deep for an eight-year-old to stand in. I closed my eyes as images flooded my brain, desperately trying to tune out the splashes I could hear, the frantic gasps, a child’s high-pitched whimper.

‘Laith.’ 

I pulled my eyes away from the lake and looked up at him, Elijah. His eyes had the same colour, the same depth. Yet while the lake emitted cold, he was brimming with warmth.

‘Why are you so afraid of death?’ he asked calmly. ‘Do you know what death is like?’

‘No.’

‘Then how do you know being dead is not better than being alive?’

I looked up into his eyes. Deep and calm they were, so much like the lake beside which we were standing. And, like the frostiness of the lake, their warmth made it hard to look away.

‘I’m not afraid,’ I said truthfully. ‘But Ty was.’

Elijah considered me for a moment, then asked me to walk with him. We made our way along the lakefront in silence, so as not to disturb the perfect stillness that filled the hollow. After a while, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

‘I didn’t help him,’ I confessed. ‘He was alive when I pulled him out and I didn’t help him.’

I feel the harsh grip of the cold around my heart as I lie on the shore, too numb even to shiver, every inch of me drenched in icy water. Next to me, Tyen is coughing, gurgling, gasping for air as his frozen lungs try to summon the strength to expel the water inside them. I need to hold him, wrap my arms around his torso and lend him what force I have left, but I can barely move, my muscles rigid with cold.

‘Ty!’ I gasp, flailing helplessly since my muscles refuse to bear my weight. Tyen has stopped coughing, all I hear is a horrible bubbling sound as he’s fighting for breath. ‘Laith,’ he manages to say, which makes him cough weakly again. I can see his narrow chest move, once, twice, then it stops.

My tiny brother is lying dead on the bare stone, water in his lungs and traces of tears frozen on his cheeks.

Warmth on my hand, on my face. Elijah had stepped close to me and taken my hand in his. The other one rested on my cheek, wiping cold tears away. ‘Laith, look at me,’ he murmured. I raised my head and met his eyes, deep and vast like the sky stretching out so far above, deep and brilliant like the reflection of the starlight on the lake’s calm surface. Deep and warm, so warm. Under his gaze I felt my insides thaw. A cage of ice buried at the bottom of my soul was melting, leaving memories and emotions that had been locked away for two years free to rise up to the surface.

And it was too much.

Thoughts, sounds, images, _feelings_ flooded my numb mind, completely overwhelming it after what seemed like an eternity of frozen silence. All I could do was try to stay afloat as the waves crashed over me, drowned me in sensations. My knees buckled under the weight of them but Elijah was there, encompassing me, his arms around my waist, his warmth in my heart, his grace in my soul. He took my face in his hands and I felt his lips brush against my forehead when he whispered, ‘Let go of your guilt. Let go of your pain. Let go. I’ve got you.’

I opened my eyes and realised that we were standing at the edge of the lake. Water pooled around my feet, rippling whenever I shifted my weight. I watched the tiny waves travel over the otherwise mirror smooth surface. Fascinated, I took a step further, again watching the disturbance of the water.  There was rarely any wind in the hollow, no fish in the lake. Nothing ever moved. I had come to think of the water as a sheet of glass, a hard and unyielding body that wouldn’t be disturbed. It was liberating to break the perfection of the surface now with my own steps. On the other hand, if I stayed still for a while until the ripples had died down, I could look down and see my legs and feet and the bottom of the lake as if there was no water at all. I couldn’t feel the water either. Elijah’s hand on my shoulder filled me with all the warmth I needed to ward off the lake’s frostiness.

I lay back, floating motionlessly and looking up at the stars. The night was clear and the sky black, only few white wisps of cloud were gliding through my field of vision like wraiths or spirits, torn and wispy like shreds of memory, half-forgotten moments that hover at the edge of your consciousness for the shortest moment before being blown away and forgotten again. I lost myself in the weightlessness as I felt my mind and muscles go numb. Still I felt Elijah’s hands on my shoulders and his lips on my forehead, and with his loving ‘I’ve got you’ resonating in my mind I let the weight of my memories drag me down into the icy depths.

 

I stood at the shore of the lake, looking out over its mirror like surface. I could see the boulder Tyen had fallen off of, the ditch we’d collected the pebbles in, the stretch of bare rock we had lain on. I let it go.

I turned around towards the grove of pine trees behind me. Between them stood Elijah, wings spread wide as if to shelter the grass beneath them. He smiled at me and reached out his hand. ‘Come on, Laith.’

Slowly, I walked towards him. We looked at each other. I couldn’t resist turning back towards the lake, just once more. On a boulder by the water stood a child, smiling and waving. I waved back. Then I took Elijah’s hand. And we flew, up into the wispy clouds.

 

* * *

 

Eva finishes reading and they both sit in silence for a while. Finally, Jonas asks, “What does that have to do with Christmas?”

Eva shrugs. “Death of one child, birth of another? I don’t know. There is an angel in it.”

Jonas snorts. “I suppose that counts,” he says and wraps his arms tighter around Eva’s shoulders, nestling his face into her hair. “Merry Christmas, Eva,” he whispers and kisses the top of her head.

She closes her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Jonas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: In this chapter the characters read a short story that contains suicide and suicidal ideation, death of a loved one, drowning/freezing, flashbacks to a traumatic event. If you want to avoid those simply skip the part between the lines, the rest of the chapter is nice and fluffy and it will still make sense.


	24. 24th December - Girl Squad

Eva, Noora, Vilde, Chris and Sana are sitting and lying all over Eva’s bed, a plate of biscuits and chocolate between them and tea-filled mugs on the bedside table. Sana and Chris are huddled together with a blanket wrapped around the both of them and Vilde is curled up with her head in Eva’s lap, while Noora’s and Eva’s legs are tangled together.

“So where is it?” Vilde asks, giving Eva a poke. “Come on, get it!”

Eva smiles fondly down at her. “I can’t as long as you’re lying on top of me.”

“Aw,” Vilde says and lifts her head. “Go then.”

Eva gets up and pulls a simple silver envelope with the number 24 on it out of a drawer. Inside, they all know, is a photo, picked by one of them as a favourite memory. Eva settles back onto her bed and hands the envelope to Sana. “Birthday girl gets to open it,” she declares as all eyes focus on Sana. She opens the envelope carefully, smiles at the picture inside it, then pulls it out and puts it in the middle of the bed.

It shows all five of them lounging on a picnic blanket just like they’re now lounging on Eva’s bed. Noora and Eva are grinning and sticking their heads close to the camera, while in the background Vilde, Chris and Sana are one giggling, hugging heap of girl. A blackbird is perched on the edge of a lunchbox, pecking at some grapes, and the sunlight falls in visible rays through the leaves above them.

All the girls look at the photo in silence for a moment, each of them smiling to themselves. Finally, Sana speaks up.

“I picked this picture,” she says, “because I was happy that day, all day, and so were you. With five people it’s so hard to find a day where everyone is in a good mood, and nothing stressful is going on, and everybody’s free, and we can just spontaneously decide to raid all of our pantries and go have a picnic. So I just want to cherish every single one of those days we get.”

“That’s beautiful,” Eva says, and Vilde giggles.

“Remember that old couple that got upset at us because we were singing High School Musical?”

“And that other old couple that gave us chocolate for singing so nicely?” Chris adds.

“Oh, the hot guy that asked Chris for a date?” Noora grins, nudging Chris with her elbow. Eva’s eyes widen. “Oh right! Why did you turn him down again?”

“Because he was an asshole,” Chris says. “He treated his dog badly.”

“Good decision,” Sana agrees. “People who treat other living things badly don’t deserve you.”

“I just want to eat those falafel things again that Noora threw together from everything she had and could never remember what exactly,” Eva says wistfully, turning to Noora. “You haven’t remembered in the meantime, by any chance?”

Noora shakes her head. “Speaking of food though,” she adds brightly, “These biscuits are amazing. Did you bake them?”

Eva smiles. “Mum and I made them together, all seven kinds,” she says happily. “She’s been home for two entire weeks now and she insisted on doing every Christmassy thing you can think of.”

“That’s so lovely,” Vilde says with a warm, genuine smile on her face. Eva smiles back.

“My mother taught me how to make harira last week,” Sana says quietly. Noora turns to her.

“What, you and cooking?” she teases. Sana glares at her.

“It’s just a fun thing to do with your mother,” she defends herself. “I’m still not about to cook for my husband.”

Chris grins. “I approve. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Noora nods approvingly and reaches for her cup of tea. Raising it, she proclaims, “To another year of girl power!”

“Los Losers for the win!” Chris agrees, raising her own mug.

“Los Losers for the win!” the others echo and down their tea as if it was beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this was the last chapter already. Thank you so much for sticking with this advent calendar and for the hundreds of lovely comments! I hope you all have the most wonderful holidays and a happy 2018 ❤️


End file.
